


Blank

by 0KKULTiC



Series: Stories From Newvoice Bakery [4]
Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker!Seungsik, Bakery, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M, MedStudent!Seungwoo, Open Mic Night, Patissier!Sejun, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Stories From Newvoice Bakery Series, byungchan and sejun conspire, light cursing, small town
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: Seungsik's head has been in space for days. After driving his friends insane and messing up a few too many batches of baked goods, Byungchan's had it. He decides that Seungsik needs to put himself out there, and what better opportunity than open mic night?
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Series: Stories From Newvoice Bakery [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1078458
Comments: 58
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

Birds chirp as the sun begins its lazy ascent into the clear sky. Seungsik frantically kneads brioche as he mentally runs through the day. Though the sun’s just barely risen, he’s already been working for hours. He doesn’t fancy himself a morning person. It’s just that he’s gotten used to the schedule at this point. He’s resigned to the fact that he’s up and baking before most people even open their eyes.

The low light filtering in through the kitchen windows indicates that their morning rush is just around the corner. He laments that, somehow, things got away from him. The baker found himself slower than usual that morning. Instead of getting right to work, he wandered aimlessly, his mental list of tasks escaping him like water through a sieve. Now, he’s paying for it. 

“Hey, Sik,” Sejun leans in through the door, “Anything I can help you with- oh. Still on the sourdough?”

“Yeah, I, uh, might’ve sort of overproved this batch. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste, though. Thinking we can do a french toast special or something, I don’t know…” Seungsik attentively works the dough, making sure not to use too much force. He figures a customary loaf is fine - even if it will be loose in structure.

“You’ll figure it out,” Sejun assures him cooly.

“Just be your usual charming self and man the front, please.”

“On it, boss.”

As a kid, Seungsik never understood why adults woke up so early just to be in line to get some sweets. Now, he realizes how valid it is. If one has to wake up at the crack of dawn, anyway, why not queue up for a nice snack beforehand. While it makes every morning a slog, it also pays the bills and allows him to spend a life doing what he loves. He’s not complaining.

The first part of the rush goes in a blur. Seungsik gets his sourdough loaves into the oven and starts tidying up. There’s never a second to rest in his position. As he cleans up in preparation for the next, well, the next preparation, he also runs through his mental list of the day’s deliveries plus supplies he has to order.

It isn’t until the third time that Sejun says his name that the head baker awakens from his splendor. Seungsik startles, blinking at the other confusedly.

“I’m sorry- What?” He sputters, cheeks flushing.

“Hello? Earth paging planet Seungsik,” Sejun laughs. “I said that someone wants to see you.”

“What? See me?” Seungsik wonders if he’d inadvertently missed a bill or something; however, Sejun’s face-splitting grin implies otherwise. Seungsik blushes.

“He’s by the counter.”

“Who is?”

“Aw, look at you, playing dumb.”

“What? You didn’t tell me who it was?”

“Yeah, but judging by your face, you’ve got an idea.”

“Wha- Whatever.” The baker takes a second to straighten himself, adjusting his apron and smoothing out his hair. He ignores the incessant waggling of the eyebrows that Sejun is giving him and strides out casually. It could be a prank, after all.

Or not. Or not.

Standing there in his scrubs is none other than Seungwoo, the guy from across the street, the annoyingly attractive resident at the rehab center -  _ that _ Seungwoo. Seungsik tries to stamp down his reflexive panic and appear as casual as possible when he approaches. 

“Good morning,” The baker greets the other.

Seungwoo raises his brows and gives a tight-lipped almost-smile, “Hi.”

“Hi. You, um, you feeling better?” Seungsik asks.

“Huh- Yeah. Yeah, much better.”

“Here for your usual iced coffee?”

“Um, yes. Yes, please.”

Seungsik nods, weaving past Sejun behind the pastry case to serve up the cold brew. He flashes Seungwoo a courteous smile as he passes over the drink.

“Thank you,” Seungwoo takes it graciously, not hesitating to take a big gulp.

“You’re welcome. That’ll be- oh, yup. That’s it.”

  
“Got it memorized at this point.”

“Oh, look at you go,” Seungsik lets out a chuckle. “Um- Will that be all?”

“Yes- Oh- Actually, no.”

“What else can I get you?”  _ Didn’t peg you for a sweets guy, is he finally thawing? Coming to the dark side? Seungsik wonder. _

“Oh, it’s not- nothing like that. I just, um, I wanted to- to thank you again,” Seungwoo’s voice goes quieter, so much so that the baker has to lean in a little.

“Thank me? For what?” Heat rushes to Seungsik’s face as he remembers the entire debacle of his delivery. In and out. He just wanted to _ go in and out _ . Instead, he ended up sort of bonding with the guy. Except, because their initial meeting was so tainted, instead of making him feel like Seungwoo is a friend, it puts them in a really weird spot.

“The whole- you know… Thank you for helping me out the other day when I was feeling unwell. It was kind of you.”

“Oh, thank you- I mean- you’re welcome. It’s- it’s nothing really. I know you’re here by yourself. It just wouldn’t sit right with me to leave you like that.”

  
“Well, I appreciate it.”

“Any time. If you need anything, you know where I live.”  _ Why did you just say that, Seungsik?!  _ The baker scolds himself. “I mean- where I work. You know I’m- I’ll be here.” Seungsik laughs awkwardly. He’s probably the color of a red velvet cupcake by now. Seungwoo lets out a laugh that Sik hopes is  _ with _ him and not at him.

“Thanks. Well, off to work!”

“Have a good day!” Seungsik waves.

“You as well,” Seungwoo waves back as he leaves through the door. 

Seungsik’s gaze lingers on the paned glass door for a second before he’s once again disturbed by Sejun. The other baker bumps his shoulder roughly.

“Wh- Hey, careful,” Seungsik gripes. “You’ll drop something moving around like that.”

“I think you and I need to talk.”

“I- We- What? If this is about a raise, I already told you-”

“What? No. It’s not about that. Though, like, if you wanna-”

“Sejun, what are you on about?” Sik glances past the other’s shoulder to make sure there’s no customers waiting at the window. Luckily, there aren’t any. They’ve hit a lull in their morning rush. The next wave will likely crash against their shores in a half-hour, but for now, everything is quiet.

“Your head has been in the clouds for, like, the past four days.”

“Has it?”

“Yes!”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What? No! See, I knew something was up. I knew it!”

“Okay, you’re losing me. What’s happening?”

“The real Seungsik would never just- just agree with me like that. Something is definitely up.”

“I’m sorry, the real Seungsik? As opposed to who? The fake Seungsik? My clone? Do I have an alien counterpart I don’t know about?”

“No, I’m talking about this-” Sejun waves at Seungsik vaguely, “-guy right here!”

“Sejun, I never thought I’d have to ask this in our place of work, but are you high?”

“No! You are!”

  
“I’m high? Me?”

“Yes! On- on love!”

“I- What?!” If Seungsik had a drink, he’d have spat it out. He’s tempted to grab his coffee and spit it in Sejun’s face anyway, for good measure.

“Spill! You have been acting all weird and spacey since- well, I don’t know. But since a few days ago!”

“I- I have not!” Seungsik balks at the accusation.

“You have too! Three days ago, you let Hanse walk out without one of his deliveries. The day after that, you burned the cookies. Last night, Byungchan told me you were staring out the window for, like, half an hour straight. And today, it’s the sour dough.”

Seungsik feels like a criminal having his day at court. His jaw drops, but nothing comes out save for a weak sound of disbelief. Was he  _ really _ that bad? Sure, he slipped up a few times, but everyone makes mistakes all the time. It must be a coincidence that the others noticed - right?

“Then there’s him,” Sejun says.

“H-Him?” Sik squeaks weakly.

“Yes, him.”

“Who-?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s that city boy you’ve been drooling over. I think it has something to do with him.”

“Wh-Wha-?”

“And you’re gonna tell me what!” Sejun demands, jabbing Seungsik with his finger. Normally, this type of stuff would be out of the question in a professional setting. But this is a family-owned, friend-employed business, and there’s nobody around, so Seungsik lets it slide.

“I- I feel like you’re really embellishing here,” Seungsik gives his weak rebuttal.

“Oh please. Come on, man. You know you can tell me anything, right? I promise I won’t judge you. Too much.”

“Gee,  _ thanks _ .”

“Okay, realtalk. Realtalk. Seungsik, you have seriously been off, and your friends are worried about you. Also it’s getting kind of sickening.”

“Sick- Hey! What happened to the nice, concerned guy from two seconds ago?”

“He’s had to watch you go all starry-eyed and drool over City Boy for days!”

“I- I am not drooling!”

“So you admit you’re starry-eyed.”

“Well- Not exactly,” Seungsik finds his fortification crumbling. He has been agonizing over this weird sorta-crush a lot lately. Maybe it’s time to actually talk to someone about it legit.

“Oh?” Sejun transitions from accusatory to interested. He crosses his arms and leans against the counter behind him. With a nod, he invites Seungsik to tell him more. If only there was more.

“I- I don’t know what to tell you,” Seungsik sighs. “If you’re hoping for some account of, like, a sordid love affair, keep hoping.”

“But then why the sudden change? I know things were tense before- for obvious reasons - but now you’re extra weird. What is that?”

“Well…” Seungsik’s heart drops at the mere thought of what had transpired just days before. He knows if he talks about it, he’ll probably never hear the end of it from his friends. But keeping it in hasn’t really done much for him either. “There was something.”

“Something?” Sejun’s brows raise high on his forehead. “A good something, or…?”

“Not- Not exactly. Though, it wasn’t all bad either. There was… An incident between us.”

“An incident? Oh my god- did you see him naked?”

“What?! No!” Seungsik blushes harder.

“Oh. Darn.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed!  _ Anyways _ . I got a last-minute delivery the other day. Seemed easy enough given that it was just across the square. The Sunrise girls called it in for their sick coworker.”

“Oh.” Sejun starts connecting the dots.

“Yeah. I didn’t exactly deduce who it was for. The door was, like, cracked open. Nobody answered, and I didn’t want to leave the stuff out…”

“No.”

“So maybe I stepped inside just to drop it off-”

“ _ No _ .”

“And maybe he pulled a knife on me?”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Um. He- he was  _ really _ sick, poor guy. Had a fall, and I helped him out. He, like, hadn’t eaten so I- I kinda helped him out.”

“After breaking into his house.”

“I didn’t break anything! The door was open!”

“Right. Sure. Of course. The door was open. Sure.”

“It was! Ugh-”

“Okay, so, what happened after that?”

“I mean I- we- we sort of talked. I helped him out a bit-”

“Helped him out… What does that mean in this context? Like helped him back to his bed or like,  _ helped _ him-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. I helped him get in bed. Got him tea and water. Made him ramyun-”

“Holy sh- you  _ cooked _ for him!?”

“Ramyun is not cooking! He was sick! And- And nobody he knows is in town and he had nobody to take care of him!”

“And he’s also, like, super hot,” Sejun adds bluntly.

“I mean, yes, but- but no! No I didn’t mean that- I would’ve helped him anyway, you know?”

“All I’m hearing is that you broke into a handsome man’s apartment, almost got killed then turned it into some sort of domestic situation. That’s, like, a textbook recipe for sexual tension. Did we miss any tropes there?”

“No! There were no ‘tropes’ okay!” Seungsik decides not to mention the unfortunate fall that  _ did _ happen like something out of a trashy novel. That can stay between him and Seungwoo. To the grave, hopefully.

“But…?”

The baker huffs, defeated, “But there is- well, we sat and watched a movie together.”

“Scandalous.”

“Like- He fell asleep.”

“Oh. Did you cuddle?”

“Oh my god- No. I was in a chair, he was in bed.”

“Lame.”

“Shut up.”

“Well no wonder you’re all confused. That’s… That’s something. From knife fight to cuddling-”

“We didn’t cuddle!”

“-in one night.”

“I- Yeah. Okay, yeah. So maybe I’ve been- I’ve been thinking about it lately. I don’t know. He came back today, so I guess he’s not too weird about it. It’s just- the whole thing is weird,” Seungsik frowns. His stomach knots itself as he tries to disentangle his confused feelings.

“Alright, back to serious friend time: where are you at with this guy? Like, really, where are you at? Do you like him? Don’t you?” Sejun’s expression softens.

“I…” I don’t know. He thinks. “I wish I could tell you. I wish it was that easy. I mean, I dislike him- or at least I thought? I dislike… The idea of him. On a superficial level, the way the guy is sort of irks me. I really wanna hate him.”

“But…”

“But I can’t.” Seungsik shrugs.

“Okay, so you do like him? Sik, that’s okay.”

“I mean- I don’t know if I’d say that.”

“Come on, dude. You’ve been all googly-eyed for him.”

“Okay, fine!” Sik throws his hands up. “So- So maybe I’m just- just a little kind of weak for him. Okay. Just maybe.”

“Mhm. Was that so hard to admit?”

“Yes!” The baker wrings a hand down his face, “It’s just that- I dunno I feel, like, ashamed. It’s just so typical. I dunno. He’s not, like, super nice. I feel like I’m just romanticizing his actions because he’s hot and writing off his gross behavior.”

Sejun frowns, “Well, just because you got off on the wrong foot doesn’t mean that he’s an awful human being. I mean, you two sort of bonded, right?”

“Did we, though?”

“Well you stuck around to watch a movie. You’re a softie, but you’re not that soft. If he was a bad person, you would’ve peaced out way earlier.”

“Yeah but still. All the gross stuff he said.”

“Well, maybe you can let that be in the past and just try to start out fresh.”

Seungsik purses his lips, “I don’t know… Sejun, why are you being so nice about this?”

“What?”

“Why are you being so nice about this? Like, normally if someone had been mean to me, you’d threaten to stab them or something.”

Sejun sighs, “Listen, I… Don’t know him well. I’m not his biggest fan, but I know we all have bad days. He’s in an unfamiliar place that’s a total culture shock with no friends around doing work and school work. Maybe he had a bad day.”

“Multiple bad days? You can say it. I’m shallow.”

“We all know that it can happen. Bad days, weeks, even months.” Sejun shrugs, “Listen, I know that you don’t exactly fall for people easily. Yeah, I have my doubts about the guy, but, I mean I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.”

“You don’t have to tolerate someone for my sake.”

“I don’t have to, but I want to. And I bet everyone else would say the same thing. I don’t want you to talk yourself out of this. You need to put yourself out there more,” Sejun nudges Seungsik playfully.

“Do I have to? Can’t I just die single and surrounded by bread?” Seungsik laughs. It’s better than saying what he really thinks.

A guy like that would never want me anyway.

“Just know that you have my blessing and I am rooting for you. We will get you to lose your v-card-”

“Shut up!” Seungsik kicks the other lightly, eliciting a giggle from the other baker. The two find nearby tea towels and start rolling them up to use as whips. Thankfully, their skin is saved by the arrival of a customer at the window. Seungsik nudges his lovely employee and friend toward the window before retreating back to the kitchen. 

Though he tries to shake them, thoughts of Seungwoo keep bubbling to the top of his head.

* * *

Sejun leans over the cash wrap counter and scrolls his phone. They hit their typical afternoon lull, and Byungchan is due any minute. After the franticness of the morning, it’s that last hour that always crawls at a snail’s pace. When the bell rings, indicating the entrance of one Byungchan, Sejun tries not to act too relieved.

“Did someone call for the prettiest boy in town?” Byungchan jokes, framing his face with his hands.

“No,” Seungsik says without looking up from his laptop. He’s at his usual table going over the books.

“Are you one of those singing telegrams?” Sejun asks sarcastically.

“He better keep his clothes on,” The head baker adds.

Byungchan feigns offense, “Would it kill you to show a little bit of enthusiasm when I-”

“Yes.” “ _ Yes _ .” They both deadpan at the same time.

“When I die. Then you will know,” Byungchan hisses. The other two chuckle as the new entrant scurries into the back. Sejun eyes Seungsik to assure he’s not paying close attention before following Byung.

“Hey,” Sejun speaks in a quieter voice when they’re in the back.

“Hm?” Byungchan’s brows raise.

“So. Seungsik-”

“Has been extra neurotic lately?”

“Oh- So you’ve noticed?”

“Kinda hard not to. Do you know why?”

“I do now,” Sejun grins triumphantly. Sure, Seungsik spilled his soul earlier, but he never explicitly said it had to be a secret. Byungchan has to work with him, too. He deserves to know what’s going on! Plus, they’re all friends. They just care about him at the end of the day!

“Ooh. Anything spicy?”

“What do you think?”

“I can dream.”

“Keep dreaming. Spicy is a no. It’s just… Well, kinda weird…” Sejun proceeds to relay Seungsik’s story. He tries his best not to exaggerate (despite his dire desire to do so). As is, Byungchan will dramatize it enough in his head. Sejun can already see the way the cogs churn behind his friend’s dark eyes.

“So… What do we think then?” Byungchan asks when Sejun’s finished telling him the story.

“I- I don’t know what to think. I can’t say I like the guy. But I barely know him.”

“Usually being a rude customer is a major red flag, mind you.”

“Everyone has bad days, though.”

“I know, I know, but still. I’m just not a big fan of this guy.”

“Yeah- Yeah, me neither, but- but I’m a big fan of Seungsik,” Sejun shrugs. “I want to support him on this.”

“I wish we could just make that Seungwoo guy be nice. I mean- I wanna support Sik, but I don’t want to, I dunno… Set him up for disappointment, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” The two sit, tapping their toes and stroking their chins in thought, more invested in Seungsik’s love life than any of their job’s pressing duties.

“I mean- I never see the guy. What do you think?” Byungchan asks.

“I think I told you-”

“I know, I know, but like… Do you think there’s any chance it’s, like, mutual? Do you think he sees anything in our Sikkie or…?”

“I… You know what? Now that I think about it, he comes every morning.”

“Right.”

Sejun smirks, “And for once, I don’t think it’s to see me.”

“Nobody comes to see you.”

“They do, too! I’m the face of this place when Seungsik’s working in the back,” Sejun punctuates the point with a smirk.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious! Anyway- my point is, the guy seems totally unphased by me. But Seungsik…”

“Wait, do you think he’s- you think he’s interested? What if he’s, like, a tsundere?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say interested like romantically. But he does seem interested.”

“Ugh! If he could see how awesome Seungsik really is, he’d be totally interested,” Byungchan pouts.

“Oh, so you’re on team Seungwoo now?”

“I’m on team Seungsik, idiot. Even if they end up in shambles we can at least get our guy laid.”

“Oh for- inappropriate!” Sejun flicks the other’s head.

“Ow! This is workplace abuse!”

“You can cry about it to Seungsik while telling him that we’re conspiring to get him laid. Sure he’ll love that.”

“Ugh- Whatever. Okay, for real, let’s strategize.”

“We’ve gotten to the strategizing stage?”

“Yes. Do you think we could- maybe we could invite him out?”

“Do you wanna hang out with that guy?” Sejun’s nose scrunches.

“Good point. We’re not there yet.”

“He may very well scoff at the idea of such pedestrian, country pastimes as trespassing.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean. There’s the bar, the movies- wait. The bar!”

“The bar?”

“The bar! Sejun! The bar!” Byungchan starts shaking him.

“What? What about the bar? You think he’ll be more friendly when he’s drunk?”

“Yes! I mean- that’s not it, but, yes, but! The bar! Friday nights!”

“Friday ni- oh. Oh!” Sejun gasps. “Oh my god, yes! Open mic night! But wait, Seungsik hasn’t been there for months.”

“We’ll convince him somehow!” Byungchan says. He wrings his hands like a movie villain as the plan materializes right before them. “Yes. Yes that’s it. We get Seungsik to bring his keyboard and sing. We somehow get snooty City Boy there.”

“He hears Seungsik-”

“Precisely! He hears Seungsik, is  _ awed  _ by his  _ stunning  _ voice!”

“Sees that the baker is more than meets the eye.”

“Falls in love with him like Prince Eric in The Little Mermaid. Aaaah~ Ahhh~” Byungchan starts lilting dramatically like the character in the movie.

“What are you guys doing back there?!” Seungsik’s voice echoes into the back. 

Byungchan clamps his mouth shut, and the two fall into a fit of suppressed giggles.

“Okay,” Byungchan’s voice is a whisper. “Okay. How are we gonna do this?”

“I…” Sejun’s smile falters. “I don’t know.”

“Look, you see City Boy during the morning right? Why don’t you deal with him. I’ll work on Seungsik and get him to sing. We’ll get Chan and Hanse in on it. Hell, Subin, too. Between the five of us, we’ll convince him.”

“Uh- Well, I guess. Sure, why not?” Sejun shrugs. “Let’s do it.”

“Operation Get Sik Bodied, commence!”

“Get him- hm. Not sure about the name.”

“Yeah, I dunno, I’m lukewarm on it, too,” Byungchan’s nose wrinkles. “We’ll work on the name, but, uh. Yeah. Go, team?”

“Go team,” Sejun snorts. The two bump fists before the changing of the guard is complete and Sejun makes his way out the door.

* * *

Hanse stretches languidly, flopping onto his bed. He’s bored.

There were only a couple of deliveries, so he got off early. He was initially super excited for all of the free time he’d have. In his head, he had visions of productive music-making time. Instead, he played a few online games and scrolled his social feeds. Woops. After putzing around for near two hours, he finally touched his soundboard.

Open mic night is just days away, and Hanse never misses it. He hasn’t missed one since his parents first let him do it in high school. He had to beg them to let him hang out at a bar on a Friday night, swearing up and down that he wasn’t there to party, just perform! They insisted on accompanying him until he graduated which didn’t do much for his cool rapper persona, but as time went on he came to secretly appreciate the support. Not that he’d say it.

He much prefers seeing the faces of his friends, anyway.

Speaking of friends - Hanse decides he ought to pester one. Mentally begging for stimulation, he texts Chan, hoping for a quick answer.  _ He ought to be done with work _ , Hanse figures.

(You): chan

(You): channnnnn

Hanse watches, breath bated with anticipation.

[Channn]: haiiii

Hanse’s face breaks out into a wide grin and he turns onto his stomach, tapping away on his phone.

(You): yooooo

(You): what it dooo

(You): you off work yet?

[Channn]: yea :3

(You): nice

(You): come over?

[Channn]: sure i can come in a bit. Need to get off my ass n shower

(You): n i c e

(You): been working on fridays set and idk need feedback

[Channn]: oh fk that is this fri

[Channn]: HYPE

(You): :3c

Hanse grins, happy the other accepted the invitation. Then, a little thought cropped up in his head. 

Subin!

The redhead quickly types a message to their new group baby.

(You): subinnnieeeeee

(You): come to ur big bro’s tonight :>

(You): i can teach u music prod 101

(You): chanll be thereeeee

It takes a few minutes to get a response. When he does it is, unfortunately, disappointing.

[Subinnie]: sorry dude can’t tonight :( good luck tho!

Hanse pouts his lips and relays the info to Chan dejectedly.

(You): no subinnie tho :((( cant make it

[Channn]: oh lol

[Channn]: maybe he feels like a third wheel lol

Hanse chuckles at first. Subin feeling like a third wheel with them? It’s likely. Hanse’s been friends with Chan for nearly a decade. The two can practically communicate nonverbally at this point.

Suddenly, Hanse remembers the conversation he had just a few nights prior.

Subin wanted to know about Chan…

Something weird happens. It’s a strange sensation knocking in his chest like regret or remorse or something. Hanse feels bad, and he’s not sure why. He supposes that, for the first time, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, Chan perhaps maybe, likes…

Subin?

And what if him being basically welded to his BFF at the hip is actually holding Chan back?

Hanse bites on his lip, wading through the strange, unfamiliar territory in his head. He tries to rationalize the other’s response. It could be nothing. Maybe he’s overreacating? Chan says all kinds of stupid things. Why would this one thing be laced with alternative meaning?

But what if it is? Hanse wonders: Should I… Back off?

He even starts typing the message: “Do you l-”

“Nah,” Hanse snorts. He immediately erases it and laughs. “No way.”

Chan? Being into Subin? Without telling me? Hell would freeze over first.

Hanse types out a response and actually sends it:

(You): he can learn to deal lol

[Channn]: LOL

[Channn]: kids gotta learn about the birds and the bees sometimes

(You): 😳😳

[Channn]: 😉

[Channn]: i can b over in like 1 hr

(You): perf 

(You): ill doll up just for u

[Channn]: oh ur wearin the NICE adidas sweats today lol

(You): BOOO YOU

[Chann]: bye cutie

(You): byeeeeeeeeeeeee

Hanse laughs, reinvigorated by the knowledge of the other coming over. He feels like the very bees they joked about are buzzing around under his skin. Now that someone else is coming to hold him accountable, he feels more motivated than ever to refine his set. 

“No rest for the wicked,” Hanse mutters. He hops off of his bed and reopens his editing program. His foot bounces along with the beat as he starts getting lost in the music. In the back of his head, he holds onto the hope that Chan likes it as much as he does.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Seungwoo winces as cool water hits his face. He robotically performs his morning routine, throwing on toner and sunscreen before changing into his scrubs. Rural living exists in some sort of a time anomaly, he’s decided. Time seems to pass with the sluggish pace of an overfed bodega cat on a hot day, yet, at the same time, it feels as if it’s slipping through his fingers like water. He’s already been at the place for a matter of weeks. Though his residency is a valuable learning experience, outside of that, everything is sort of a blur.

In the incorporeal funk that is time perception in a foreign place, one thing does remain eternal - an anchor in his existence, the nectar of life: coffee. Seungwoo descends the metal stairs outside his apartment and practically bounds toward the provider of his morning’s respite. Though he’s not a major sweets-eater, he does appreciate the smells that waft down the sidewalk as he approaches. The fragrance of fresh-baked bread intermingled with sugary sweet tones drifts into his nose, telling him he’s close.

Seungwoo joins the queue at the bakery window. Even though the sun’s barely risen, there’s still a line. While there were some extra determined brunch-lovers back in the city, few were ever as determined as the morning larks in the small town. They line up extra early just to get their favorite pastries oven-fresh. 

_ To each their own _ , Seungwoo grumbles internally. It’s not his business what people eat. His reason for going is much more utilitarian. He needs coffee to function! Simple as that. Seungwoo mentally rehearses his order as he shuffles forward. Even though he’s gotten the same thing every time, he still feels a bit awkward ordering. When it’s finally his turn, a flurry of nerves washes up in his stomach.

He eyes the window attendant and calms down just ever so slightly. Thank god it’s not  _ him _ .

Not that there’s anything wrong with  _ him _ . It’s just that Seungwoo isn’t sure where he’s at with  _ him _ .  _ Him  _ being Kang Seungsik, proprietor of the town-favorite bakery and accidental savior of one Han Seungwoo.

  
Seungwoo was so embarrassed by the entire debacle that he had to avoid the other side of the square for days. When he finally got over himself, he decided to integrate the stop into his routine again. Supporting local businesses is good! Plus, he can support Seungsik, and he feels like he owes the guy one. Or ten. Maybe ten. Ten what? Seungwoo doesn’t know - but ten something.

In spite of himself, he can’t stop replaying the memory in his head. There was the knife - which he does feel justified in, to be honest - him passing out twice. Then waking up to find Seungsik snoozing on a chair at his bedside. The entire thing was immensely strange, and what is even more strange is the fact that Seungwoo… didn’t mind it at the end of the day. Though he loathes to admit it - and god knows he’d never do so out loud - he did enjoy the company. 

_ Maybe this place really is making me go insane _ , he thinks.

The PT resident takes his spot at the window and flashes an amicable and hopefully not pained-looking smile, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” the usual morning worker flashes Seungwoo a dazzling, dimpled smile. It’s blinding, and he envies the guy for being so  _ awake _ . “The usual for you?”

“Large iced americano, yup,” Seungwoo nods. The worker gives a quick “be right back” remark before disappearing inside.

“Oh- Thanks,” Seungwoo trades his card for the drink upon the worker’s return. He can already feel the sun baking the town to a crisp even though it’s just started its trip up the sky. It makes that first sip of the earthy, bitter americano even better. 

“Here you go,” the bakery attendant hands back the card.

Seungwoo accepts it with a courteous grin and makes a step to head away. However, the other speaks up before he steps out of his place in line.

“Wait- You’re new around here, right?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m just here for the summer doing residency at Sunrise.”

“Awesome. Listen, I know this is, like, super random, but you’re probably bored here all the time, right?”

Seungwoo laughs sheepishly - the question feels like a trap, “It’s definitely an… Adjustment from the city.”

“I can imagine. I went to university in a big city. Coming back home was kind of crazy. But, um, we do have stuff going on sometimes. Like this Friday! There’s an open mic night at the bar on the corner.”

“Um- Huh Gak’s? I think I saw a sign about it, actually. What, uh, kind of music do you usually see? Acoustic stuff?”

“A bit of a mix. Acoustic sets. A few indie rappers- oh, and of course there’s our wonderful head baker on the keyboard.”

Seungwoo’s eyes widen, “Head baker? You mean Seungsik?”

“Mhm!”

“He plays?”

“And sings! Ah- I can’t wait. It’s been so long since he’s gone on.”

“Wow. I had no idea!”

“Really? Oh my god. Ask the girls at Sunrise about it. They’ve been trying to bully him back into singing forever.”

Seungwoo tries not to let on just how intrigued he is. Seungsik? The friendly baker? A singer? He struggles to picture it. The other does have sort of a low, honey-esque voice normally.  _ But what does it sound like singing?  _ He wonders. Though he doesn’t want to be a total cynic, he somehow can’t envision the other as an adept singer. 

The idea of an open mic night in a strange, rural town isn’t exactly promising. Seungwoo’s brain immediately summons visions of old people doing karaoke numbers that are questionable at best. But the baker singing?  _ Maybe I ought to see for myself. _ He thinks.

“-xcuse me,” the bakery attendant’s voice pierces Seungwoo’s thoughts.

“H-Hm?” Seungwoo blinks confusedly.

“I asked if you needed anything else.”

“Oh! Ha- No, um, I’m okay. Thank you!” Seungwoo tips his cup and awkwardly shuffles away. “Have a good day.”

“You, too!” the worker waves, “Hope to see you there.”

“Yeah, of course,” the PT resident gives a quick wave before practically power walking away. It isn’t until halfway to work that he realizes what his response was.

_ Wait. Did I tell him I’d be there!? _

* * *

A yawn works its way through Sejun’s entire body, stretching him out from toe to torso like an overfed cat. He can’t help feeling like one after helping himself to one too many pastries. The ticking of his internal clock is beginning to slow down drastically - an indicator that it’s near quitting time. His afternoon slump is more regimented and scheduled than most trains, and when the sun starts its trip toward the other side of the horizon, he knows it’s near time to go.

“Ding-dong!”

The soft dinging of the door chime indicates Subin’s entry into the space. Sejun sleepily smiles at the younger one and gives him a little wave.

“You look like a ball of sunshine,” Subin jokes. He nods toward a scone on display under a cloche, “What’s that?”

“Oh um. Gingerbread cardamom scone.”

“Wait- really?”

“Yeah.”

“In summer?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Seungsik was feeling-” Sejun waves vaguely, “ _ -experimental _ . They’re not bad. Cardamom is kinda strong though.”

“Hm. I think I’ll stick to my usual.”

“Good choice.” Sejun sluggishly plates the other’s typical favorite and starts brewing a half pot of coffee. 

When he went to university in a bigger town, people glugged the caffeinated beverage twenty-four-seven. Back at home, most folks refuse to touch the stuff past three, swearing up and down “Oh, I’ll never sleep”. Doesn’t make a difference to the baker either way. He’s glad he can make the sale though, and the excess coffee is a good excuse for him to take some home when he heads out. Just the aroma of the beans does wonders to boost him.

“Ding! Ding!” The chime rings again, lifting Sejun’s mood further.

“Good morning!” Byungchan greets them cheerily.

“Some of us actually have to wake up in the morning,” Sejun scoffs.

“Morning is a social construct. It’s a state of mind. One I am currently in- do I smell coffee?”

The morning baker rolls his eyes as he grabs another cup for Byungchan. The evening worker trots off to the back and quickly emerges with his uniform apron tied around his waist. He waits for Sejun to give Subin his coffee and roll before leaning in and loudly whispering:

“So, how are we on Operation Get Sik A Man.”

“Ooh- it has a name now?” Sejun laughs.

“All good plans have names.”

“Wait- You’re getting Seungsik a what?” Subin chimes in.

“Hush! This is adult talk!” Byungchan jokingly scolds the youngest.

“You’re not being quiet or subtle. Like. At all. Where is he anyway?”

“Off on an errand. I don’t know- do I look like his mother?”

“...Yes?”

“I’m- You-” Byungchan waves at the other vexedly, “You be quiet now! The adults are talking!”

“About getting Seungsik laid?”

“Who taught you about the birds and the bees?” Sejun joins, feigning shock. He turns to Byungchan and adds, “This is all your fault.”

“Wh- My fault? He’s your son.”

“Oh so when you want to cuddle up on the couch he’s your son, but when he’s being troublesome he’s my son?”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

“I want a divorce.”

“But think about the children!”

“I want a divorce from both of you,” Subin shakes his head. “Just- Forget I said anything and carry on so I can eavesdrop.”

“That’s better.” “Good.” The two older men say at the same time. After a small fit of giggling among them subsides, they continue their “adult” conversation.

“Did you talk to hot city guy, though?” Byungchan asks.

Sejun nods, “Yeah. He- He kinda said he’d go, I think.”

“Really? Was he like- was he excited, or…?”

“I don’t know. He’s not exactly the most expressive person. He was like ‘I’ll be there’. Or was it ‘I’ll see you there’...? Something like that. Point is, he’s game. I mean, it wasn’t a contract signed in blood, but, you know.”

“So hard to draft those up on short notice.”

“I  _ know _ . Well, anyway, what about Sik?”

“Oh, I- We’ve been talking baking. You said you’d be on Sik duty.”

“Yeah, and I am. Just wondering if you primed him at all.”

“Uh, no. You can surprise him with your amazing persuasive abilities.”

“Thank you. I  _ do  _ have amazing persuasive skills.”

“And you’re humble, too.”

“It’s not easy being perfect,” Byungchan claps Sejun on the shoulder.

“Hm. You’re right. You are a god,” Sejun starts walking back into the kitchen, “And I am but a human. A human with human needs like… Naps. So, you good?”

“Leaving already? But Hanse isn’t even here yet.”

“I’m sleepy!”

“Weenie.”

“Send the married couple my best regards, then.”

“Ugh. Fine. Nerd. You better at least sleep and not just run home to play League.”

“Ding-ding!” Sejun hears the door chime yet again as he grabs his stuff from the back. Judging by Byungchan’s lack of customer service voice, it’s someone familiar. Seungsik wouldn’t come in through the front, leaving two possibilities. He steps out, backpack in tow, and waves to his friend.

“Chan is better at being on time for Hanse’s job than Hanse is,” Subin remarks.

“He’s not here yet?” Chan’s smile falters just ever so slightly.

“Tell him to turn his location on,” Sejun adds, walking past him.

“Oh. That’s a good idea!”

Sejun almost tells Chan that he wasn’t serious, but something stops him. 

_ Why are all of my friends lovesick messes?! _ He wonders to himself. As if on cue, the redheaded source of Chan’s madness strolls in. He immediately slings his arms around the other’s shoulders and leans heavily against his back.

“Alright, I’m out,” Sejun waves, bidding everyone a farewell. He gives Byungchan a stealthy nod, to which the other responds with a mischievous look.

_ At least we’ve got our stuff together. _

* * *

Seungsik glances at the clock, silently willing the minutes to move forward faster. Last time he checked, it was just past six thirty. He finds himself dismayed to see that it is just barely six thirty-seven - twenty-three minutes out from closing. An excruciating twenty-three minutes. It’s not uncommon for the baker to feel like something the cat dragged in by the end of his shift. He usually gets a second wind after closing up, but he feels even more worn out than usual. Even his later customers noticed, one of them looking at him piteously and pointing out “You look tired.”.

_ Like I didn’t know _ , he thought as he waved them away.

Though the idea of an espresso is tempting, he knows it’ll rob him of what little sleep he normally gets anyway. Upon the woeful discovery that he can’t bend time to his will, Seungsik sighs and flops over the pastry case. 

“Feeling ever so vibrant, I see,” Byungchan hums as he sweeps the back area. 

“Oh yeah. Fresh as a damn daisy,” Seungsik groans. Part of him wonders if he ought to be more professional, but at the end of the day it is a family business and they are all friends. He always tries to be fair and even puts his foot down sometimes. Still, at the end of the day, he figures stuffy “professionalism” can stay in corporate high rises. They’re baking muffins, not trading stocks.

“Listen, just one day between now and open mic night at Huh Gak’s!”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” The baker hoists himself off the case (noting that the glass will need to be wiped off). “Hanse doing a set?”

“Like he’d ever pass up a chance to get on a stage with a microphone.”

“Fair point.”

“What about you, though? It’s been a while.”

“Wha?!” Seungsik’s eyes widen. “Me?”

  
“Uh, yeah dummy.”

“Why  _ would  _ I do it?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! Because you have a honey voice and nimble pianists fingers!”

“I have- my fingers are what?”

“Come on, you’re acting like you’ve never been on that little stage before. Once upon a time, a young Seungsik used to love it…”

Heat flushes to Seungsik’s cheeks. He  _ did  _ have a stint in his late teens where he’d make it a point to sing any time Huh Gak would have him. Though he was nowhere near as driven as Hanse, singing used to be a hobby of his. He even composed a few songs - not that he let anyone hear them. Of course, now, his old keyboard hasn’t seen use in months. Occasionally he’ll tap out a little number here and there, dust off the plastic keys and go through an old piece out of boredom, but it’s not the same. Though he still loves those things, he has a difficult time finding the motivation.

Instead of unpacking that, though, Seungsik simply writes it off.

He shrugs, “I definitely wouldn’t be able to go on tomorrow. I- I don’t have anything ready.”

“Come on, you’ve got to remember at least, like, one.”

“It- it doesn’t work like that. My voice is out of practice-”

“Dude you totally sing in the shower.”

“I- Excuse me? Are you there listening?”

Byungchan points straight at the baker, “Don’t lie. Look me straight in the eye and tell me you don’t.”

“I- This is not about that-!”

“You’re right, it’s-” Byungchan dramatically crosses over to the counter by the pastry case and slams his hands down, “-not!”

Seungsik takes a few moments to muster a response. Unsurprisingly, Byungchan gives no elaboration on the dramatic outburst and instead simply stares him down, demanding a response.

Sik rolls his eyes, “Pray tell me, what, then, is this about?”

“This is about it being open mic night, and you- you getting back out there!”

“I- Me- I what?”

“You heard me. Look I know that, like-” Byung casts a quick glance toward the door to assure no customers are in sight. When the coast is clear, he lowers his voice, “-like you’ve been in a place.”

“In… A place?” The blush on Seungsik’s cheeks deepens. He likes to be reliable and unassuming. Having even his best friends make presumptions or even insinuate worry does little more than frazzle him more than he already would be.

“When’s the last time you made time to have fun with us? Or, like, took a vacation?”

“I mean, I’m basically the sole proprietor of this place,” Seungsik deflects. “Can’t exactly pick up and leave whenever I want to.”

“Gonna speak like a friend and not an employee now. Sorry, but, you know that’s crap. Your parents would be happy to fill in for you occasionally.”

“They spent decades doing this. I’m not gonna make them cover me if they don’t have to. They deserve their rest.”

“Okay- Spare me the whole filial piety thing. I know you love your parents, but don’t use them as an excuse for your isolating behavior.”

  
Seungsik’s jaw drops.  _ Well  _ that  _ was a callout. _

“I say this because I care and love you,” Byungchan tries to soften the blow a bit. Seungsik isn’t sure it helps, but at the very least it’s not further twisting the dagger in his gut.

“I’m sorry, why are we having a therapy session right now? Because I don’t wanna get up on stage and embarrass myself?” he responds, slightly wounded.

“You will  _ not  _ embarrass yourself. Anything you do will pale in comparison to Mr. Lee’s trot numbers.”

“Oh, Mr. Lee. He does love a good trot song.”

“He really does.” The vivid memory of the older gentleman in a sparkly jacket singing off-key makes the two break out into a fit of laughter.

_ Maybe I should lighten up _ , Seungsik muses.  _ But still… _

“Come on, Sikkie, please,” Byungchan says after they come down from their laughter. “Put yourself out there a bit. It’ll be fun.”

“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m just gonna watch-”

“You’re being very funphobic right now.”

“What?!”

“Did you miss the part where I told you to put yourself out there?”

“Oh for- you sound like my mother,” Seungsik gripes.

“Well, she cares about you, too! Funny how that works.”

  
“Can’t care manifest in different ways? I will accept your care in compliments, cash, or credit- hey! Don’t throw straws at me!”

“I’ll clean them up!” Byungchan replies between tossing straws. They make pretty awful projectile weapons, most of them widely missing their target and falling sadly on the ground. 

_ He better pick those up _ , Seungsik thinks.

“I just think you’re amazing, and we’re all in town, together,” the other sighs. “Like, I dunno how many more open mic nights we’ll have together.”

_ Oh no. Not the quarter-century crisis thing. Why is he getting all serious and existential now?! _

“Well, I mean…” Seungsik frowns. He’s got a point.

“I think it’d be good for you and, like, all of us. Subinnie’s never even heard your voice. He doesn’t know that within those jowls resides an angel.”

Seungsik, ever the softie among them, heaves a sigh, “If you promise me to never, ever talk about my jowls again-”

“Ohmygod!” Byungchan chirps excitedly.

“-I’ll do it.”

“Ohmygosh, really!?”

“I just said yes, didn’t I?”

The bakery worker leaps forward and wraps his long arms around Seungsik, hopping giddily around him.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! It’s gonna be so good, Sikkie, we can drink after and- ohmygosh!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seungsik hesitantly return’s the other’s affections in a loose hug. “This isn’t very professional, you know…”

“Don’t care!”

“Yeah. Noted.”

_ I can’t believe I just agreed to that! I need to grow a spine! _

“Byungchan,” Seungsik says.

“Mhm?” The other responds.

“Let go of me.”

“Hm. No.”

_ The things I do for friendship. _

The baker shakes his head. By reflex, his eyes drift to the clock.

_ Well would you look at that. _ He chuckles inwardly upon reading the digits:

7:02PM

* * *

Seungsik’s keyboard lets out a pathetic, muddled noise as he bumps his head against the keys.

“Why did I agree to this?” He mumbles to himself.

_ Because you’re too nice _ , he mentally answers.

_ Maybe Byungchan had a point about that other thing, too. _

His original plan after work was going to be dinner and gaming. He mentally prepared himself for a night of shouting on voice comms while munching on fried chicken. Instead, due to his bleeding heart, he swapped out a mechanical gaming keyboard for the musical kind. The box he kept his sheet music in had barely seen the light of day since he moved above the bakery. Now, its contents lay scattered across his table, floor, desk and the small stand that comes with his keyboard.

Song selection.

That’s where he started, knowing it’s of the utmost importance. He needs to choose something palatable to most - at least, he  _ prefers  _ to (unlike Hanse who got outright scolded for some of his freestyling in the past). Seungsik isn’t so ambitious as to pick some wildly difficult songs when he’s so out of form. However, he doesn’t want something boring, either.

After about an hour, he finally chose a song. After practicing it twice, he decided it was the wrong song. So he found another.

And another.

And another.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” he singsongs, tapping random keys manically. “Maybe I could just not…”

He eyes the state of his apartment, the papers scattered everywhere, carelessly tossed sheet music books and his upturned closet. Something about the sight makes his heart dip. He hadn’t anticipated gleaning profound insight from a literal tornado of music. Yet there he is, brain turned to mush and stomach in knots, drawing parallels between real life messes and metaphorical ones.

A sort of disarrayed mess, the picture of uncertainty, lack of commitment and conviction. Long neglected, the books ended up finding themselves scattered about without care. He wonders if that’s what would become of his friendships, too, if he doesn’t care for them. How many more turned down invitations and rain checks would they be content to check? How many things would he miss out on by just staying at home?

_ No. I  _ have  _ to do this.  _ He decides.

_ I have to for them. Maybe for me, too. How bad can it be… Right? _

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” he speaks as if the keyboard can respond. “But first…”

Seungsik gets out of the chair he’d pulled up and grabs a few books off of the floor. 

He begins by tidying up the apartment, figuring sooner is better rather than later. A messy environment isn’t conducive to focus! At least, that’s what his old piano instructor would say, anyway. He stacks the books neatly atop his dining table, and that’s when it catches his eye.

“Hm… What about you?” Though his heart is still beating nervously, and his stomach is already twisting with nervousness, he determinedly starts his rehearsal anew.

**Author's Note:**

> // it's been a while, so if you're here from a long time ago or brand new, HI!! thank you so much for reading this! u can follow me @0KKULTiC on twit if u want~


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